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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314528">Your Husband Won't Like It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BourbonOnTheRocks/pseuds/BourbonOnTheRocks'>BourbonOnTheRocks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In The Eerie Light Of My Sleepless Nights [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Girls (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>3.06 Additional Scene, Creepy Sense Of Possessiveness, Did I mention toxic?, Dubious Consent Implied But Not Happening, Extremely unhealthy dynamics, F/M, Gun play, Idiots Who Won't Admit They Just Want To Have Sex, Implied/References to Prostitution, Jealousy, Like Seriously They Need Professional Help At This Point, Power Play, S3 spoiler, Toxic Interaction, Toxic Relationship, UST</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:07:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BourbonOnTheRocks/pseuds/BourbonOnTheRocks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your husband won't like it." </p><p>OR </p><p>What if Mick wasn't talking about hot tubs after all?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beth Boland/Mick (Good Girls), Beth Boland/Rio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In The Eerie Light Of My Sleepless Nights [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>291</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Husband Won't Like It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Beth saying she had herpes in the last episode had me cackling and imagining Mick asking Rio if he had it too... So I ended up writing something terribly unhealthy and vaguely related to this concept...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Your husband won't like it."</p><p>Beth's answer darts out in a reflex.</p><p>"I have herpes."</p><p>Mick's grin widens, "Yeah, me too."</p><p>Beth freezes, unable to think anymore.</p><p>"So?" he insists.</p><p>And God, she can't believe that she's doing this. That she's even <i>discussing</i> it. She doesn't want to. She mentally looks for another way to unlock Lucy's phone, but she can't find any, because deep down she knows that she came to Mick because she was already running out of options. And without that, she's still on shutdown, and she owes Rio money, and she owes Mick money, and there's nothing she can do about it except maybe killing everyone.</p><p>Not that she hasn't already tried.</p><p>Her eyes come back at Mick who's still sucking the bronco sauce off his fingers with something obscene in the way he's looking at her and she almost retches.</p><p>"You will have to wear a condom," she says, trying to keep her voice steady.</p><p>He shrugs, "Fine by me."</p><p>"No spanking. No hickey," she adds, hoping that maybe he'll give up on this idea and accept her offer for money if she's being too picky on what she's allowing him to do to her.</p><p>But he just stares at her, apparently waiting for her to finish her list of do's and don'ts of basic prostitution. Because that's what they call it, right? God, she'd never thought that she would ever go this down.</p><p>Although to be fair she would never have thought that she'd ever rob a grocery store until she did it. And even back then, she didn't think that things would ever go bad to the point that she would have to shoot someone. And that an innocent girl would die because of her. She just needs to lower her expectations, that's it. In which case she can't wait to see what the future is holding for her after this because given the current course of event, it can only be awesome.</p><p>Mick is still staring at her, and her mind is racing, reviewing all the things she most surely doesn't want to do with him, to do <i>ever</i>, and it sounds so much like a porn tags list at some point that she's not sure she can ever say those words out loud in a sports bar.</p><p>"I'll text you the rest of it. And the address of the hotel. Tomorrow at five," she bossily states, because if she lets her voice shake even the slightest she's going to call the whole thing off.</p><p>And she can't afford it.</p><p>"Kay."</p><p>Back home she books the hotel room online with shaky hands and immediately sends Mick the info, because she knows that she won't be able to do it after a full night's sleep. It's just crazy. And <i>disgusting</i>. It's not that she finds Mick ugly, though. If they were to meet under different circumstances, she'd probably even admit that there are a few things she likes about him. But this whole thing is just so twisted, and gross, she can't even... Like seriously, who takes advantage of a distressed woman's situation like that?</p><p><i>Practically everyone,</i> her conscience whispers.</p><p> </p><p>On the next morning, she wakes up feeling like she's still in a dream. A bad one. It all feels unreal, and she can't believe the detailed text she sent Mick the night before. And the thought that she's supposed to meet him in the afternoon is just <i>absurd</i>.</p><p>But as she goes through her day, the anxiety rises, and she finds herself dealing with weird worries, wondering if she should wax, and the clothes she's going to wear. The <i>underwear</i> she should pick. And this makes no sense, because she's not supposed to make an <i>effort</i> for this, showing up and doing what she has to do <i>is</i> the effort already. There's no need to doll herself up, it's not a <i>date</i>. Just a moment the simple idea of which makes her cringe and that she only hopes for it to be quick and painless.</p><p>At four, she pulls her phone out and types a cancellation text. She can't do this. She'd rather rob a bank, it's by far less disgusting. But then her eyes fall on the last mortgage bill and she slowly erases the message. She needs the money, and she can't afford to lose this job. Which she most certainly will if she can't make the next delivery on time. Rio won't give her another chance.</p><p>Thinking about him gives her a mental ranting window, and she spends another fifteen minutes cursing Rio because he's the reason why she's cornered to such extreme bargaining today, and insulting him, even internally, it makes her feel slightly better. Until she realizes that she's supposed to leave the house within ten minutes, and even if she doesn't want to look like she <i>prepared</i> herself for this, she doesn't want to be repulsive either, so she quickly changes into an attire slightly more appealing than her usual mom-at-home-in-sweatpants outfit. It gives her confidence.</p><p>She parks her car on time in front of the hotel, but then she stays still for ten minutes behind the steering wheel, incapable of making a decision. To go or not to go. She feels like this is a no coming back kind of thing, and unlike shooting Rio, she'll definitely never be able to tell the girls about it. Not immediately, at least. Maybe later, when she'll have processed all the shame and disgust yet to come. She tries to relativise, tells herself that this is not worse than the countless times she's given in to Dean's desire without really being into it. But still, it feels different and she's not sure that she's ready to cross that threshold.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually she pushes the door, enters the hotel lobby, and is faced with the embarrassment of having to ask for her keycard. The receptionist doesn't really pay attention to her, though, simply letting out a frightening, "Your friend is waiting for you upstairs," and that's when she realizes that she's fifteen minutes late and Mick's already there. Suddenly it's so real that she thinks she might faint. Or puke.</p><p>But still she manages to crawl her way to the elevator, because she hasn't gone so far and invested so much anxiety in this just to get cold feet at the last minute. She stays still for two excruciating minutes in front of the room door, completely paralyzed, until she takes a deep breath and inserts the keycard in the slot.</p><p>The door clicks open and she maneuvers the doorknob, closing her eyes and reopening them only when she's inside. She exhales. Mick is there, fully clothed — thank God — and sitting on the edge of the bed. He raises his head at her entrance, stares at her with discomfort and she closes the door behind her with shaky hands.</p><p>This was a terrible mistake. She has wanted to run away the second she entered the room but now the door has closed behind her and leaving now would make it even weirder. But she can't breathe right now. She clears her throat, drops her purse and takes one step forward. She tries to look cool and confident, but her whole body is violently <i>shaking</i> in a way that only a blind wouldn't see.</p><p>Mick gives her a compassionate wince, and at first she thinks that he understands her trouble and that maybe she can still call this whole thing off. Talk him out of this. But then she hears the click of a gun in her back and she freezes.</p><p>"Gotta say I didn't think you'd have the nerves to come, darlin'."</p><p>She doesn't need to turn around to just <i>know</i>. She has no idea what the fuck Rio is doing here, but all she can think about right now is that she'll never be able to take a proper picture of Lucy's face before the worms eat their way across it. She's screwed, so he might as well use the gun now because it won't make any difference to delay her fate until next cash drop and her unavoidable failure.</p><p>But still, she asks, "What are you doing here?"</p><p>She hears him walk in her back until she can catch a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision. And then he's right there in front of her but she doesn't want to look at him. She mentally scans the sexual list she sent to Mick last night, trying to remember if there was anything in there suggesting that she was even remotely open to the idea of a threesome with him and his boss.</p><p>"You think you can ask Mick for a meetin' under my nose? You think I dunno what my boys do?" he angrily asks, almost threatening.</p><p>Her eyes meet Mick's, and he looks so sheepish that she finds it hard to be mad at him for telling Rio. But she definitely should. She's been fooled, and she doesn't even want to think about the consequences she is going to face for <i>that</i>.</p><p>Rio and Mick exchange a few glances and the latter eventually gets up with a sigh, leaving the room with a last, rather minimal, nod at her. She can't believe that he's leaving her alone with Rio. She doesn't know what the latter wants from her, but she is starting to think that this room is the place where her dead body will be found in the morning. Or something of the kind. Because if Rio just wanted to sleep with her, well first of all he could just have <i>asked</i>, and second of all he wouldn't have bothered to use such a twisted route.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes finally meet Rio's, and there's a burning darkness there that she doesn't recognize. His jaw is clenched, and she can tell that his shoulders are tense as well. He waves the gun in her direction and she takes a step back, and then another, until her back meets with the door. He loves having her trapped against a wall, a door, any kind of steady surface, at least she knows that.</p><p>He closes the distance between them until he's almost pressed against her, lets the barrel of his gun play with her hair, wander  in her neck, slide along her upper arm.</p><p>His face is wearing this charming expression that she's only seen on him right before an upsurge of psychotic violence and a terrified shiver runs along her spine.</p><p>"So... this is your kink, huh? What does it for you exactly, Elizabeth? Tell me... Tattoos? Guns? Money?"</p><p>His voice is hoarse and the gun is roaming her face but she doesn't give in to her internal panic.</p><p>"It's business. And none of yours," she bitterly spits.</p><p>Because that's what he said after all, right? She's nothing more than business, and she can't believe that he's acting jealous after he told her that. Because this is what this whole show has to be about. Jealousy. She can't think of any other reason. Well, then he can go fuck himself.</p><p>So maybe it is suicidal, but she can't help but add, "You don't own me, you know that?"</p><p>"Oh I think I do," he replies, over-confident, and that's enough to infuriate her.</p><p>"Well this is kind of offensive! And really problematic," she points out.</p><p>He chuckles but does not answer, his eyes absorbed in the motion of the gun against her face. And she's been trying to ignore the fear, but she can't forget the fact that he <i>armed</i> the gun, and that he could shoot her any second, even unintentionally.</p><p>"Please put down the gun," she hisses.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, he doesn't.</p><p>"So you said no spankin'?" he suddenly asks after a silence. "I thought you liked it, though."</p><p>His smirk is cruel, his voice lascivious, and she winces because she knows exactly what he's talking about. And he knows that she knows.</p><p>"No hickeys? Nuh?" he insists, his face feigning surprise, and she wishes she could hit him in the guts.</p><p>"I—"</p><p>"No hair pullin', huh?" he drawls, entangling his free hand in her hair with a harsh grip, forcing her head backwards until their mouth are too close for her to bear the feeling.</p><p>A long time ago, it felt right, the sensation of his fingers in her hair and his breath on her mouth. It doesn't anymore. The hideously twisted version of something they used to be but died somewhere along the road. It's still not her major concern at the moment, though.</p><p>"If you're going to kiss me, please put down the gun first," she begs, feeling the cold metal pressing the skin of her neck with an erratic motion.</p><p>If he starts losing control over himself, she'd rather not have him with an armed gun in his hand. Just saying. He laughs at her implied suggestion, though.</p><p>"Me? Oh I ain't gonna kiss anybody, sweetheart!"</p><p>And there is this minuscule part of her which suddenly feels disappointed. And this bigger part of herself that can't help but notice that she's alone with Rio in a hotel room <i>she</i> paid for, and, well. It's a shame that she didn't even get to <i>try</i> the bed.</p><p>"But you were, though," he whispers, pressing himself a bit more against her and she can't stop her hips from slightly responding to his grinding. "Tell me, Elizabeth, how would you have done this? You would have fucked him on top? You would have let him get you down on all four?"</p><p>His voice is low, drawling, almost sticky with the lust dripping out of every word. There is no way he is still referring to Mick, now. Not that he was ever really talking about him, though. She knows what he's trying to do, because she shares with him the memories he's summoning. She refuses to let them overwhelm her, though, and she doesn't answer. The extremity of the gun bites a little bit further in her flesh and she wraps both her hands around Rio's wrist.</p><p>"Put. Down. The. Fucking. Gun," she anxiously asks, her eyes locked with his in what she hopes is an intimidating look.</p><p>He chuckles but the gun stays, and his eyes drop on her mouth. Fine. If he won't listen to her plea, then she'll find another way to retaliate.</p><p>Out of a provocative instinct she teases him, her tongue darting out to wet her parted lips before she slowly whispers, "I would have played with his lips, caught them between mine. And then..."</p><p>She interrupts herself to perform a perfectly timed languid sigh and he growls, "Then what?"</p><p>"I would have put my tongue in his mouth. Just the tip at first, until he'd respond and kiss me back."</p><p>At this point he's probably not even aware that he's licking his lips when his eyes roll back at hers and he lowly asks, "And then?"</p><p>"I would probably have deepened the kiss, twirled my tongue around his. Maybe he would have started to touch me," she dreamily whispers.</p><p>Although she's starting to lose her own breath in that game. Rio's body pressed against her, his scent, his fingers in her hair, it's all too familiar. She knows exactly how it would feel to have his lips on her mouth, his hands under her clothes. And God, his mouth is <i>so</i> close.</p><p>"What would have happened next?" he asks.</p><p>"Then I think that we would have collapsed on the bed. Unless he'd rather have had me against the wall,"  she softly replies with a challenging gaze.</p><p>A choked noise escapes from his throat and he tilts his head just a little, so their lips are almost brushing now, bringing her back to all the times he did that. <i>Before</i>. </p><p>But she just can't give in to these memories. There is too much pain on top of the pile now for her to <i>initiate</i> anything. She's not even sure she would let him if he tried. And this is a pointless question anyway, because she knows that he won't start it either. He'd probably rather chop off and eat his own foot than kiss her right now.</p><p>She can feel his heart beat against her right breast, the heaving of his chest with his every breath, the air blowing against her mouth every time he exhales. It feels weird, to realize that she almost put an end to that perfectly running machinery. Not that perfect, though. There is a subtle wheeze in his breath that she never heard before and she knows that it's because she caused it.</p><p>Her own breath is shaky, she's panting, and she hates that she wants him so much. She hates that she can't have him because Lucy's ghost is there, lingering between them, because he's just ruined her only chance at getting her business back up and running. Because she hates him. To a point she'd never thought that she could ever hate someone. And yet she knows that her panties are soaked for him and that there has to be, somewhere in an alternate reality, a version of them that is probably already naked and ruining each other under the bed sheets. But it won't be them. Not today, not ever. It's too late for this.</p><p>"Don't try to seduce my boys ever again, Elizabeth," he warns her in a whisper, and she can't completely extinguish the small whine in her throat when his lips brush hers as he speaks.</p><p>As if drawing a sonorous reaction from her was the only signal he was waiting for, he straightens, and somehow she's relieved that his mouth is now out of her reach, that his chest is not pressed so hard against her breasts anymore.</p><p>"I didn't do anything, he's the one who brought that up!" she protests.</p><p>He shrugs, "Cuz I asked him to."</p><p>And the idea that he set that whole thing up, just to see how far she'd go and then tease her about it, punish her for it, it's just... disgusting.</p><p>She swallows her heave back and glares at him, appalled, "You are sick!"</p><p>He stares at her in silence for two seconds before he slowly steps back, finally withdrawing the gun from her neck and she sighs in relief, her hands letting Rio's wrist go as soon as the gun is not pointing at her anymore.</p><p>"Go home, Elizabeth."</p><p>He sounds tired. Almost defeated.</p><p>She doesn't stick around, though, she doesn't care about how he's feeling now. She grabs her purse and leaves the room without looking back.</p><p> </p><p>She strides across the lobby, eager to go home and shower this insanity away when she spots Mick, comfortably sitting in an armchair. She thought that he'd left and realizes that he's probably carpooling with Rio and waiting for him. He raises his head when she walks past him, and it's too late to pretend that she didn't see him. So she glares at him, unwilling to talk and hoping that he'll get the message and leave her alone.</p><p>Of course he doesn't.</p><p>"Mrs. Boland."</p><p>She turns around, exasperated, "What?"</p><p>"Our deal is still on, ya know?"</p><p>This is unbelievable. She has to close her eyes for one second to calm down.</p><p>"No," she firmly says.</p><p>"I mean, I can still give ya what you want," he shrugs.</p><p>Which is tempting. She desperately need Lucy's body right now, although she'd never thought that she would ever hit the ground that low. She used to trash human body parts in her garbage disposal, not literally whore herself to get some. Not that the first part was in any way reassuring about her sanity and sense of ethics back then, though.</p><p>But this whole thing has been a nightmare and she doesn't want to give it a second attempt.</p><p>"I'm not taking that road with you again," she stiffens.</p><p>He scoffs, "Good, cuz I ain't interested in ya. I want a hot tub."</p><p>She blinks, completely taken off-guard by this.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Mick lets out a raspy laughter.</p><p>"Yeah, I told ya your husband wouldn't like it, didn't I?"</p><p>And she knows that she should take some time to think about it, assess the risks and everything, maybe talk to Dean first, but her major concern right now is that Rio could walk in the lobby any moment, and maybe there is still a chance that he won't know about <i>that</i> deal if she makes a quick decision.</p><p>She gives Mick a small nod, "Fine. My house. Tomorrow night."</p><p>"We got a deal."</p><p>She resumes her walking towards the exit, and her hand is pulling the front door knob when she hears Mick's hoarse voice again in her back.</p><p>"Mrs. Boland? For the record, I wouldna hurt ya," he grunts.</p><p>She turns her head, scoffing at him, "Yeah, that's what they all say."</p><p>He chuckles, and she wonders what could be so funny about this whole twisted thing when he elaborates.</p><p>"I'm gay."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Am I the only one who was not completely opposed to the idea of Beth and Mick becoming a thing?</p><p>[06/05 EDIT] I have noticed that I got a lot of new guests kudos lately, so first of all thank you very much, it's really nice to see that so many people appreciate my work! But also I would reaaaaaaally like to know how so many of you found out about my fics? Are you a group or something? If anyone of you guys could just post a comment to tell me, or send me an ask on my <a href="https://bourbon-ontherocks.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> just to let me know that would be super nice because I'm dying to know!!! Thank you again!! 💖💖💖💖</p></blockquote></div></div>
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